Not To Yield
by Ashblood
Summary: Three chapters following Thor from Ragnarok to Endgame. Endgame chapter now up! Thor angst as he grieves.
1. Ragnarok: Not to Yield

Only a few days ago _The Statesman_ had been buzzing with activity as the Asgardian survivors kept themselves busy by exploring the ship and rooting out any supplies of food and water as well as blankets and any spare clothing that could be found. The very basic necessities for life. It was all they had left. Too much had been left behind; too much and too many lost to Hela's wrath or Surtur's flames.

The Asgardian people were strong in spirit as long as they had a task to focus on, but now that they had found all that was to be found of any use on board _The Statesman_ , now that they knew how to pilot the ship with Heimdall navigating their way through the stars, there was nothing to prevent the grief from bearing down upon them. All they could do was to wait for the weeks and months and years to pass until the ship arrived on Earth. And then what? They were a people in exodus, cut down and scattered through space, their homeland obliterated. They were a people without proof or reminders of who they had once been. The buildings, books, paintings, statues all gone for ever. They were a people without a culture to inspire them to carry on, to be greater than they ever thought they could be.

All that was left was to drift aimlessly and hope for something better.

Thor had stolen himself away to the observation lounge to be alone. He was at a loss as what to do next and he couldn't bear to look at his empty-eyed people any longer.

There were recliner chairs dotted around the lounge, ones which came with cup holders so that one could comfortably lie back on the leather upholstery and watch the stars zipping by overhead while snacking on popcorn and slurping on drinks. Somehow Thor didn't feel like lying in one of the chairs, so he lay on the floor instead. It was cold and hard, but that was a welcome sensation. He would take discomfort over numbness.

He tried to lose himself among the countless stars and nebulae. But, his thoughts kept returning to Ragnarök and his remaining people. How could he lead them through such a painful situation?

He allowed his thoughts to drift further, going as far as to closing his eye and focusing on the hard floor beneath him and the hum of the ship's engines. It was actually quite peaceful, but it did make him wonder how long could he stay there before someone came looking for him?

The answer was about five minutes, before the door hissed softly as it opened and closed. Footsteps walked lightly over the floor and then stopped about a short distance away from him. There was a rustle of fabric and a low sigh as the person lay down and made themselves comfortable.

He did not need to open his eye to know that it was Loki. He didn't know why his brother had sought him out, but he could keenly feel Loki's presence, the mixture of fire and ice in his spirit always restlessly moving.

For a while they lay in silence.

There was a comfort to be taken from hearing the inhale and exhale of Loki breathing, somewhere above the low rumble of ship's engines and life-support systems; and Thor was grateful that his brother was refraining from speaking, not uttering his usual snarky quips or sarcastic observations. The silence hung heavy between them, but it held them together as though wrapped in a woollen blanket.

They were bounded by Ragnarök. It didn't matter what had transpired between them in the past, Fate had decided that the two princes of Asgard would be the key to its doom. Perhaps their whole lives had been preparing them for the task.

For what purpose? Thor wondered bitterly. What good could come of this?

They were passing under a magnificent cloud of red gas. It dwarfed _The Statesman._

He was admiring its colours when the phrase _emissions nebula_ popped into his mind and he knew it had come from Loki because he himself had never known those words before, along with _radiation_ and _high levels of hydrogen._ And then the sweet taste of cherries filled his mouth. He had forgotten that Loki had the peculiar ability to taste colours. No really knew for sure if this quirk was particular to Frost Giants in general, or if it had been a side effect of Odin's spell. Either way to be reminded of it was pleasantly nostalgic, bringing back childhood memories.

The last time he had been able to hear any of Loki's thoughts or share in his synaesthesia was when they had been five years old. Thor had demanded to know why Loki kept chewing on his green sleeve like a moron, so Loki had opened his mind to the experience. It sent Thor running straight to the Bifrost for a taster. His father had been less than amused to find his eldest son happily licking the rainbow bridge. And then Loki had thrown a tantrum because he'd never been allowed to eat the Bifrost even though his eyes told him that it was delicious. After that Loki had kept himself closely guarded from everyone.

"The Hulk must taste like a giant apple to you." He didn't know exactly made him want to break the silence, but he judged it to be about time that they spoke out loud.

In his peripheral vision he saw Loki grimace.

"Wrong shade of green, brother."

"Oh. Blegh." He gagged when Loki projected an image of the Hulk into his mind. A foul, bitter taste sticking to his tongue. He tried to scrape away the taste with his fingers, but to no avail.

"Indeed," said Loki, with a self satisfied smile as he linked his hands under his head. "It's a bad green. I learnt how to control my gag reflex with time though."

Silence fell between them again, apart from the fast tapping of Loki's foot against the floor. It was highly irritating and Thor could sense that Loki was doing it exactly for that reason, to annoy him to saying what was really on his mind.

After twenty more seconds of incessant foot tapping Thor caved in.

"What have we done?"

Loki's foot stilled.

"Exactly what we were destined to do. We were placed on the road to Ragnarök even before we were born. And you can't fight destiny, Thor."

Thor frowned. "So you feel no responsibility? No shame? No guilt?"

As soon as he said those words a coldness came over Thor as Loki completely closed his mind to his once again, as though a fire had suddenly been extinguished.

Loki sat up with his back to Thor. He made to get up, but Thor reached out and grabbed his arm, knowing that if he let Loki go now then he might never come back.

"Don't misunderstand me, brother," he said, urgently. "Don't twist this moment inside your mind. I'm not blaming you for Ragnarök. I...don't go, don't run from this."

Loki's face softened slightly.

"I just wanted to know if you feel like I do."

Loki swallowed hard and looked wildly around as though he might still bolt from the room, but then he looked down at Thor and said in a choked voice, "My home is gone...the lake where I learnt how to swim is gone...the trees I used to climb are gone...our ancestors' remains are gone..." His voice turned into an angry hiss. "Our mother – everything she left behind is gone! People I saw every day are gone! Nothing remains!"

He wrenched his arm free from Thor's grasp and walked to the glass dome. Thor was slightly alarmed to see him leaning dejectedly against the glass, eyes closed. He looked depleted of any fight left, not like the Loki he knew who always had at least five different schemes planned for every eventuality.

 _Your strength comes from Asgard_ , Odin had told him once. That was true, wasn't it? His power came from those around him. That was what important.

"Pray for the arms of Valhalla," Thor whispered.

Loki stared at him tiredly, immediately recognising the prayer they had chanted at least once a week as children.

"And the arms of Valhalla shall protect you," Loki continued. "Your arrows will never be depleted and you swords never dulled. The glory of Valhalla is waiting."

It was such a simple prayer, but simplicity was what they needed. Easy to say lines while their tongues and minds were leaden with sadness.

Together they spoke the second verse: Do not weep for they rest in the arms of Valhalla

And the arms of Valhalla shall cherish them

They laugh, they sing, they dance

And we envy their peace.

"We can't give up hope, brother," said Thor. "Asgard is a people not a place. We can keep Asgard alive by remembering who we are, where we've come from and where we're going." He pointed towards the space in front of them. "Our strength comes from Asgard, and Asgard's strength comes from us."

Loki nodded wordlessly. Then he said:

"Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength with in old days

moved earth and heaven; that which we are we are;

one equal temper of heroic hearts made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Thor was suitably impressed. "Not to yield," he echoed. "Who wrote it?"

Loki shrugged modestly. "Oh, the lines just came to me while I was in the lift."

Thor snorted. "Really? But, it's so good."

"I know it is because I wrote it."

"Well, in that case, kudos."

"Thank you...? What does kudos mean?"

Thor shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I heard it on Earth. It might translate literally as lying, cheating, plagiarising bastard."

Loki chuckled.

* * *

When the path is shrouded in darkness and we don't which way to turn then rituals can provide direction and a foundation to stand on.

Later that day Thor led his people in singing their songs and prayers, and telling their stories, all that was left of the old Asgard, and the only way they could keep it alive.

"Though much has been taken, much abides," Thor reminded them.

At first there were some who were reluctant to join in, not wanting to be reminded of what they had lost, but before long their singing became strong. There was even some laughter as they recalled some of their funnier stories.

And there was dancing, which quickly got out of hand as the Hulk tried to join in. Loki could barely hide his disgust.

"And, yeah, we may be no longer that might which shook the Nine Realms. But, we are what we are. A band of heroic hearts, who has been weak by fate, but we remain strong in spirit. We strive, we seek, we find, we'll search for our new home, but we will not yield to grief or sadness or anything or anyone that the galaxy tries to throw in our way!"

"We will not yield!" the people shouted back.

"Nice speech, your majesty," Val said with a smile. "Did you write it yourself?"

Thor turned to smirk at his brother and to make sure that he was listening. "You know what? Actually, I did."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Kudos, Thor."

* * *

"Thanos, I will not yield."

Though much has been taken, much abides. And though we are no longer that strength which moved earth and heaven, we remain an equal temper of heroic hearts who will not yield to the darkness no matter what the cost.

Thanos, we are waiting for you.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you for reading, although I know that both Loki and Thor are ooc. I'm sure that many of you knew straight away that Loki was quoting a verse from Tennyson's Ulyssess, which I felt described the plight of the surviving Asgardians well. And being space Vikings I felt that I should include some poetry as I'm sure that they must have some pretty epic poems about their many battles and myths._

 _Why does Loki have synaesthesia? I don't know. I was writing and it just went that way. It's okay if you don't like it. I don't feel that I've written him accurately anyway so decided I may as well add something new._

 _Why is Loki familiar with Tennyson, but not the word kudos? I feel like Loki is very clever, but ignorant of some things, especially as he considers humans beneath him. He's not afraid to pass their poetry off his own, though._

 _Who said, "Thanos, I will not yield"? Maybe it was Thor, or maybe it was Loki. Or someone else. Argh, Loki please do the right thing in Infinity War! Do not yield, do not give into Thanos. Deep down you're better than Thanos!_

 _Thank you again._


	2. IW: Idle Tears

_Spoiler warning for Infinity Wars._

 **Idle Tears**

My people went down fighting. Not one of them would yield to Thanos' men, so they were cut down in droves...Not just our soldiers, but our women and children too...They were all brave. Now there is only me left. I am alone now. I have truly lost everything.

But, Thanos, that monster, forced me to watch as he murdered Loki right in front of me. Made me watch as he crushed my brother's neck, as he squeezed out the last of Loki's life while he struggled in his grip. And then he carried Loki over to me, threw him down in front of me.

That was a mistake on Thanos' part and one which he will come to regret.

"The sun will shine on us again."

That was the last thing Loki said to me. I believe him. They're all waiting for me in the Halls of Valhalla. I will be reunited with my family and people again soon, but not before I have driven my new weapon through Thanos' heart. They'll just have to wait a little longer for the last Asgardian.

"So, dead brother, huh? That's annoying."

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the arrival of Rocket. It was little tricky to read the expressions on his furry face, but I could tell that he was sincerely concerned for my well-being.

"Yeah, well, he was always annoying, especially now he's gone." I was able to force a smile, but I couldn't prevent my voice from cracking.

"You're gonna be okay?"

"Of course," I replied. I wiped the tears from my face and as I did so was reminded of a piece of poetry Loki had once recited to me. I had never been as fond of poetry as Loki was, but now I suddenly found myself recalling lines that must have sunk into my mind somehow despite my disdain of the art. It was strange how funny I found this to be and I couldn't help but laugh at myself. "Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean."

Rocket frowned at me. "Excuse me?"

I wiped the fresh tears away and held up my now glistening fingers. "You don't need to be concerned about me, Rocket, because these...these aren't tears of despair and grief, my friend...no, no, they're tears of revenge..."

"Revenge?" Rocket sounded highly sceptical. "Okay."

"Or-or maybe they're not...Maybe they're tears of unstoppable resolve...I don't know you see...I don't where these tears are coming from...I know not where...But, I am fine. I can do this absolutely. I am good to carry on."

The racoon stared me down for a moment, but then he shrugged. "If you say so, buddy." He walked back to his chair, leaving me to my thoughts.

* * *

128 years ago...

I could see Loki in eagle form circling over head. Suddenly he dived sharply, heading straight for me. He spread his wings wide at the very last second, shooting over my head (narrowly avoiding scalping me) and landed gracefully in the corner of the roof.

I turned my back as Loki shifted back to his original form, not wishing to see him naked. That's the downside of shift-shaping – it may be more powerful than simply casting an illusion over oneself, but if you do drastically change shape then you are forced to leave your clothes behind, least you should tear them. For this very reason Loki had concealed items of clothing all over Asgard, stuffed away in various secret nooks and crannies. I wouldn't be at all surprised to know that he had also clothes stowed away all over the Nine Realms.

I waited for the soft rustle of fabric to end before turning around again.

"Is there a reason why you're in my secret place?" Loki asked, searching through the food basket I had brought with me. He held up a red and green apple but on inspecting it closely tossed it aside in favour of one that was uniformly a bright green. Loki was very fussy about what he ate, preferring only to eat foods that were of only one colour.

His "secret place" was not exactly a secret, but more of a very-hard-to-reach-place; a small and concealed part of the palace roof, hidden from those on the ground and almost impossible to reach unless you could fly or climb walls.

Loki eagerly began to munch on the apple, taking a great bite out of the side. He was always hungry after shape-shifting.

"You've been gone for a week!" I exclaimed. "Mother was worried."

For half a second Loki paused in the consumption of his apple and I knew that it meant that once again he had lost track of the time, but then he shrugged his skinny shoulders and returned to eating with a gusto.

"Heimdall knew where I was."

"That's not the point. You should say when you intend to go travelling. And you know full well that the longer you stay in an Animal Aspect the more likely you are to forget who you really are."

Loki snorted. "I am not so foolish. Besides if I asked for permission to leave Asgard then Father would always say no." He uncovered his notebook from the bottom of the chest he kept in the corner, along with a pencil and began to hastily scribble in the pages.

I watched him warily as he sat cross-legged and bare-footed on the floor with the notebook balanced on his knee, leaning close to the page. His hair was a mess and his face was caked with grime and sweat. I could hear him breathing heavily, still regaining his breath. It wasn't unusual to see him in such a state after a long flight – it took a lot of his energy to do so – but still it was quite a sight when usually he doesn't even have a hair out of place. Only himself and Heimdall would know where he had been this time. And neither were likely to share that information unless forced to.

Some say that Loki is mad. Mother says that his mind simply works too fast for him to be like anyone else, so we should all just take him as he comes. I think that he's probably a mixture of the two.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, still scribbling away. "What are you doing up here?"

"I was looking out for you, Loki. You don't normally go away for so long."

"Huh." He stood up without warning and walked over to where I had left Mijolnir. He picked it up, flipping it by the handle. Then he slowly turned it over in his hands to examine the metal. After that he sat back down and returned to his notebook.

"What are you up this time?" I asked.

"I have a bet with Fandral. He told me that it would be impossible for me to design and forge a weapon which rivals the might of Mijolnir herself. I intend to prove him wrong."

Perhaps he had been to visit the Forge. That would explain his dirtiness.

"That's quite a challenge. And how do you intend to cheat?"

Loki smirked. "I never cheat. I simply outwit people. They would call it cheating though to make themselves feel better. Anyway, Fandral told me I could take as long as I like. I have years if I have need of them."

I sighed heavily, suddenly feeling worn-out with life in general.

"Well, if anyone can do it you can."

Something in my voice made Loki look up.

"Brother?"

He put down his pencil and notebook and joined me by the parapet.

"Nothing's wrong," I insisted. "That's what is so odd. It's just been a long week, I suppose."

We stood in silence watching as the sun began to set over the citadel, drawing the night in after it, and covering the ocean, and then the forest, fields, and houses in darkness. Loki began to speak softly, reciting a poem:

"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,  
Tears from the depths of some divine despair  
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,  
In looking on the happy autumn fields,  
And thinking of the days that are no more."

He turned to face me.

"Sometimes, Thor, we just feel sad for no particular reason, or at least for a reason we cannot consciously discern. It's part of being alive. And because we are destined to live for thousands of years our sorrows pile up in our hearts and become distinguishable from one another, a black mass of half-forgotten, half-remembered offences and hurts...like ink spilt over the pages of a diary."

He was staring into the distance with a thoughtful look upon his face, as though he two were trying to remember something long forgotten. Even back then I wished I understood him better. If that was how he often felt then it was no wonder that he would he turn into an eagle and fly off for days on end.

"Sadness isn't something to be feared or avoided, Thor. It's just life. But, you should trust that no matter how long the night is, the sun will always rise again."

I squeezed his shoulder.

"You were always the wise one," I told him, patting him on the back. "But, let's go and see Mother now. She will want to tell you off."

* * *

Our tears are not idle tears. We know where they come from and we know why we cry them.

I know that as long as Fate keeps me alive I will always look back on the days that are no more.

We may have lost the battle, but the war is not lost. I will not stop until I have avenged the lost people of the universe.

Much, so much, has been taken, but still much abides. Once again I say that we will not yield to Thanos.

I hear a bird shriek overhead. An eagle searching for it's lost partner. My heart leapt when I saw it for I thought it might be Loki, late as usual. But then she turned about and swooped away into the horizon.

* * *

 _AN: Once again Loki is quoting Tennyson, this time from The Princess._

 _Infinity Wars was so hard to watch! Loki's death was very intense to witness. And I kept hoping that he would suddenly show again up to help Thor and the others. My tears are not idle!_

 _Thank you for reading! "So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more."_


	3. Endgame: Common Loss

**Endgame**

Yes, I'm fine. I'm totally, absolutely fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? Maybe you've forgotten that I'm one who chopped off the head of that purple bastard. And that's a really good thing. Not just because he deserved to die and I promised that he would, but because it means I got to make up for the mistake I made first time round. Redemption is good for the soul. I feel fantastic now, cleansed, renewed.

And don't overlook that Asgardia is all set up...Asgardia? Did we settle for Asgardia? Or did we call it something else? I can't remember. Doesn't matter. Names are just names. They're not important. Like sheep. Why do we call sheep sheep? We shouldn't have to call sheep sheep just because they're called sheep. What if I wanted to call them lions? People would get cross with me, but whatever, I'm the king and I can call shee- lions – whatever I like.

Anyway, whatever, I was rambling. Yeah, this place, whatever it's called, it's a paradise. I mean, we don't have much in the ways of money, clothes, food, shelter...and the plumbing isn't great...I wasn't going to mention that, but I have so...my friends offered to help, but we're the Asgardians so we don't need help from anyone. We do have cable, though, and the internet, occasionally. And beer. Lots of beer. So, what more could we want?

It's funny because back on The Statesman we didn't have much there either, but it was a decommissioned cruise ship so at least we had soft beds and a swimming pool and a cinema. Loki really picked a – never mind. No, I don't think about him or any of the others. Why would I? They're gone and not coming back. We've had the funeral; it's all over and done with. No need to dwell.

Yes, obviously not everyone made it. I know that. I know that better than anyone. But that's life. That's fate.

What, you want me to name them? Fine. Uh, let's see, so there was Loki, Heimdall, Lily...a lot of families...do you really want me to list them all? We'll be here for hours.

No, I don't think about them because I've moved on. Don't keep going on about.

Look, grief doesn't last for ever. I've found that the trick is to just not think about them. Ever. Don't even have any reminders of them. So that's why I don't have any possessions. Apart from the TV. I don't need anything, anyway. I'm happy like this. It's peaceful.

Pepper sent me a Kindle, but I sold it. Why would I want it? Reading was Loki's thing, not mine. Like I said, the rule is no reminders. It's a strict rule and not everyone could follow it, but I'm strong. I can handle it. It works for me.

I don't go outside unless I really have to. There's no need. A king doesn't really need to be seen anyway. That's my rule. I've radically changed the monarchy, you see. And one of those changes is that the kind rules from behind a closed door. And he never bothers with tradition. Or pray to his ancestors.

And what could I do for my people anyway? What could I say to them? Not that there's many of them left.

Hela and her army killed many. And then – then we were halved...and then that half was halved again by the snap...so, not many of us left...

I'm really thirsty.

Here, help yourself. Have as much as you want. I can at least remember how to be a generous host. I have going for me still. And take a look out of that window. It's a nice view of the sea, isn't it? I really like it here. I like the humans and I like the ruggard landscape; feels like home.

Problem is, every time I look at those iron grey waves I keep remembering that stupid Jumblies poem. Do you know it? It goes like:

They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,

In a Sieve they went to sea:

In spite of all their friends could say,

On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,

In a Sieve they went to sea!

And when the Sieve turned round and round,

And every one cried, 'You'll all be drowned!'

They called aloud, 'Our Sieve ain't big,

But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig!

In a Sieve we'll go to sea!'

They should have stayed at home. Idiots. Should have listened to their friends.

And why is it a problem? Because it was one of Loki's favourites. I'd hear him reciting it to himself while onboard the Statesman and it's catchy enough that it stuck inside my head, too. I think it gave him some comfort. The Jumblies were weird little people with a tiny population and "far and few were the lands where the Jumblies lived", so they went looking for a new worlds. It made Loki smile to see the similarities between them and us. Like I said, Jumblies should have stayed at home.

No, I'm not contradicting myself. I don't think about him. I don't want to think about him. It's just that sometimes, even with my best efforts, memories pop into my head. Like his favourite poems. It's a battle inside my head because the more I try not to think about him and all the others, the more the memories surface.

Yeah, that's right. Beer does help with that. Washes everything away.

Really? I've just told you that I don't want to think about him! Do I have to answer your stupid question?

Sorry, that was rude. Okay, okay, I'll try.

Okay, I think that...he would tease me for being overweight. And...I honestly don't know what else. He was complicated and contradictory even to the very end. He'd probably want to know why I haven't built him a statue. One with the bendy horns.

I think that he would be angry with me. What for? Everything. He's probably saying, 'It's not fair that I'm dead and that witless oath is alive, drinking all day and playing Fortnite. It's his fault that we're all dead."

No, I haven't forgotten what he did for me. I just don't know why he did it. Yes, he did it for me, but why? Thanos was about to leave with the Space Stone when he came out of hiding to attack him. If he had just stayed put...

And I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but I'm angry with him. Furious, to be honest. Because he had stolen the Tesseract, taken it out of Asgard. If he hadn't then it would have been destroyed by Surtur and maybe Thanos wouldn't have attacked us, maybe half of our people would still be alive.

I don't know if I can forgive him for that.

Some days I do, some days I hate him all over again. Some days I think that it was the Tesseract who had a hold on him, that it wanted to be stolen by him. Other days I think he was just driven by greed and his thirst for power. I will never understand him.

I think attacking Thanos was his apology. Today I forgive him, but tomorrow I'll be angry all over again, and so on and on it goes.

Yet he was my brother and no matter what his motivation was, he still died to protect me. So I find that I love him as much as I hate him. I think I might be torn apart by all this love and anger. Typical of Loki to make it all so complicated.

You asked me to be honest, so...if you think I hate and blame Loki then you should look inside my head and see how much more I hate and blame myself.

My whole life has been a sham. There are so many stories telling of my victories, but I've failed in all the important ways. I was a terrible brother to Loki growing up. I never let him feel like my equal. I am a absent, reclusive king. And I let the Snap happen.

I've never said that out loud before, but it's true.

If you don't believe me then think about this: I was only worthy of Mjolinir for a few short years. Most of my life I've been unworthy. And, trust me, it took a lot to make me worthy, but not much to make me unworthy. Just one mistake.

No! If we had Mjolnir right here in front of us, I could not lift her. Like I said, the truth is that it was only for a small period of my life that I was worthy, now I've gone back to my true, awful self.

Too hard on myself?! Listen to yourself!

Tell me this, how many have you lost? How many loved ones, colleagues, acquaintances, regular people you'd bump into on the omnibus?

Lots. I know. So how you can sit there and suggest that I'm too hard on myself? It was my fault!

Don't, just don't.

Look, it was kind of you come. To try and help. I thank you for that. But Bruce should never have sent you because there is no helping me. I think that we can both agree that there is no coming back from this, it's too much, bigger than all of us.

Cheer up, I'm know that you'll be able to help plenty of others, just not me.

Oh, here, take this as a thank you. I've had it shoved under the chair for months now. I was just going to chuck it, but you might like it.

Yeah, it was one of Loki's, you can see where Tennyson wrote him a message in the front, telling him to go away. Heh, his books get everywhere. They found this one in Big Ben and sent it back to me.

Valuable? Aren't all books?

What bookmark?

"One writes, that `Other friends remain,'  
That `Loss is common to the race'—  
And common is the commonplace,  
And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make  
My own less bitter, rather more:  
Too common! Never morning wore  
To evening, but some heart did break."

I'll see you out.

You know Loki promised me that, "That the sun will shine on us again".

He lied.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading! I think I might do another chapter so that I cover more of Endgame.

Obviously, credit to Tennyson and Edward Lear!


End file.
